


In His Eyes

by polarbarbarian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But like only a little bit, Fluff and Angst, Fluff with a Sad Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Markus hates himself and especially his thrown together body, android body horror, connor is a good boyfriend, just looking at scars really, there is cute stuff in this i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarbarbarian/pseuds/polarbarbarian
Summary: He didn’t acknowledge Connor when he slipped into the room, and Connor didn’t seem have anything to say. For a moment they both stood there in silence, just staring at Markus’ exposed form.“What do you see when you look at me, Con?”





	In His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the first thing I have written in about 4-5 years and I blame the rk1k server. Leave a comment if you wanna yell your feels at me I will yell with you no matter how incoherent you are asdgfhgj anyways enjoy!

Markus smiled softly at his boyfriend’s disgruntled expression. Connor was glaring down the image Markus had brought for him like it was hiding the secrets of the universe from him, the end of a paintbrush tucked snuggly between his lips as he tried to see… well, he didn’t quite know what he was trying to see. That was the problem.

 

The deviant leader stepped closer, standing right behind Connor so he could wrap his arms around his waist and place his head on Connor’s shoulder.

 

“It’s not a criminal, love. It won’t tell you want you want no matter how scary your scowl is.” He said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lover’s neck.

 

Connor sighed in frustration, letting the hand holding the paintbrush to his lips drop to the side and pressing back into Markus’ touch. “I’m sorry, Markus. I’m trying, but I just don’t think I can see it as anything other than what it is.”

 

“I don’t want you to show me how you see it,” he said, giving Connor a light squeeze for encouragement, “I want you to show me what you see in it.”

 

“I understand what you mean, but I’m not sure I know how to accomplish that.” Connor said, pouting ever so slightly at the blank canvas before him. He had known coming into this that it would be difficult, but this was turning out to be impossible for him to wrap his head around.

 

“It’s ok, Con.” Markus soothed. He wanted to kiss the adorable pout off Connor’s face, but he settled for another affectionate peck, this time on the cheek. “Just try to think about how it makes you feel. How would you describe the mood this picture gives off to someone who’s never seen it?”

 

He paused as he watched Connor’s LED flicker to yellow, giving him a moment to think about it before giving him one final nudge in the right direction.

 

“Now how would you show those ideas if you didn’t have words?” He said, voice no louder than a murmur. “What would you change about the image to show someone what you see?”

 

Connor looked back at the image with a new curiosity, the end of the brush coming back to his lips as he tried one more time to come up with a way to make it his own. Seeing that his seeds had been successfully planted, Markus stepped back from Connor. He stood to the side just as Carl had once done for him, giving Connor plenty of room to work and having a front row seat to watch his first painting come to life.

 

Connor took his time, considering every colour carefully - almost reverently. Slowly but surely the canvas was filled with bright cyans and teals shadowed with deeper blues and purples, spreading outwards in elegant patterns from the golden tones of the figure taking shape in the center.

 

“I think it’s finished.” Connor eventually proclaimed, stepping back and looking over his creation with uncertainty. Markus came to stand beside him, resting a reassuring hand on Connor’s hip as they took in the finished painting together.

 

It was a beautiful [impressionist style painting](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kxHDh6sEPd4/USkebTQ2tcI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/SohL4_aVxdo/s320/01-Iris+-Scott-Finger-Painting-Dog.jpg) of a golden retriever shaking water off its body. The flecks of water created a swirling shower of cyan, washing the entire image in a joyful, carefree light that seemed to originate from within the dog itself.

 

“It’s beautiful, Con.” Markus whispered, unashamedly letting the awe and affection seep into his voice.

 

“No need to exaggerate.” Connor said, flustering under the weight of Markus’ praise. “It’s average at best, I didn’t expect to master it in one go.”

 

“It’s you.” Markus said, pulling away just enough to look his love in the eyes. “Every drop on that canvas has a bit of you in it, now. How could it be anything but breathtaking?”

 

Connor clicked his tongue as he looked away from the intensity of Markus’ gaze. He thanked whoever may be listening for the thousandth time androids couldn’t blush.

 

“You,” He said, punctuating it by dabbing his still-wet paintbrush on the tip of the deviant leader’s nose, “are such a sap.”

 

“Hey!” Markus whined, faking a pout as he smudged the paint farther up his nose.

 

“What’s the matter?” Connor said, lips quirking up in a teasing smirk. “You have a bit of me on you now, how could you be anything but breathtaking?”

 

Markus glared playfully at his lover, sneakily swiping up some extra paint from the discarded palette and smearing it on Connor’s cheek. The ex deviant hunter let his mouth fall open in an exaggerated expression of offence, causing Markus to snicker in a way that made Connor’s mechanical heart flutter.

 

“Finger painting is an activity for toddlers, dear leader.” Connor teased, using a stealth maneuver of his own to dip two fingers into the leftover paint and then quickly swiping it just above his boyfriend’s left brow. “Lucky for me, I’m technically only two and a half.”

 

“Oh, you’re on.” Markus said, managing to get another swipe of paint under Connor’s jaw before the ex deviant hunter slipped out of his reach, laughing softly and just allowing himself to enjoy this rare, carefree moment with the person he loved.

 

They spent a good few minutes going back and forth with the paint, getting it all over their hands, faces, and a little on their clothes. Eventually paint and soft touches turned into heated kisses and moans, and by the time they were finished, both their bodies and their bedsheets were covered in various shades of blue, yellow, and green.

 

“Look at this mess.” Connor said, clearly unrepentant as he looked over their situation with a fond smile. “I’ll have to wash these sheets at least three times to get all the paint out.”  
  
“Don’t you dare.” Markus said, hugging his love closer as if to physically halt the idea. “I’m framing these. You can’t stop me.”

 

Connor let out an amused snort, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics. “Just for that, you have to shower first.”

 

Markus whined his reluctance, burying his face in Connor’s hair and sinking deeper into the pillows in protest, but with some gentle nagging he was convinced to get out of bed and clean himself off.

 

It took him a while since most of the paint had dried, but eventually he’d gotten most of the paint off - at least in the most visible places - and stepped out of the shower. He caught his reflection in the mirror as he reached for a towel and found himself pausing, looking for scars that weren’t there. Not on the surface.

 

Without really thinking about what he was doing, or why, his synthetic skin started to recede. He watched closely, taking in all of the major damages as they were uncovered. First, the dented casing on his cheekbone where he forced his mismatched eye to fit with the rest of his facial structure. Then, the bullet wounds that littered his torso like some twisted game of connect the dots. Finally, his legs. He almost had to look away when they were fully revealed. The ugly seams where he forced them to connect with his own anatomy, the ever-dirty rough patches left over from being scraped along the ground for so long, the feet that were slightly different sizes, the one missing toe.

 

Stuck in a strange sort of daze, he reached for the panel of his chest cavity. It opened smoothly at his prompting, revealing the final piece of the horror show that was his body. He stared at the stolen thirium pump, watching it beat life into him. Life he was never meant to have.

 

He didn’t acknowledge Connor when he slipped into the room, and Connor didn’t seem have anything to say. For a moment they both stood there in silence, just staring at Markus’ exposed form.

 

“What do you see when you look at me, Con?” Markus said, breaking the silence with a broken whisper. He sounded so vulnerable, so scared. It made something in Connor’s chest feel like it was twisting in knots.

 

“I see the whole world, Markus.” He whispered, his tone so ernest it left no room for debate.

 

Markus’ lip trembled as tears pricked at his eyes, falling too fast for him to try and fight them. He gave a small shake of his head, taking a deep breath he didn’t need to try and steady his voice module so it wouldn’t hitch with the intensity of his emotions.

 

“How can you see that in something like me? An… _amalgamation_ of stolen parts, stolen dreams, stolen lives.”

 

His voice did break on the last words in spite of his efforts, and Connor rushed to embrace his love as a few quiet sobs escaped his lips. He ran a comforting hand down Markus’ back, giving him a moment to cry while Connor looked for the right words to say.

 

“Markus, look at me.” He said, putting both hands on the sides of his lover’s face to coax him into meeting his gaze. “You are not just the sum of your parts, nor the places they came from. You never have been.” He brushed a thumb gently over Markus’ dented cheekbone, catching a tear as it fell. “When I look at you I see the man who showed me that life was worth risking everything for, and that I _deserved_ to be allowed to live it. You took on the entire human race to make sure we’d get that chance, and you did it all without resorting to violence and hatred. The whole world has been opened for me because I have you, and so, you are my _whole world_. And I’m sure that if the original owners of the parts you took knew just what they were building back up, they would be proud to be a part of you. Proud to be part of such a beautiful life. Proud to hold such a beautiful soul.”

 

Markus buried his face back into Connor’s shoulder, letting the fear and the pain and the guilt and the overwhelming love pour out of him as he gave in to the sobs wracking his body. He let Connor’s words soothe his self-loathing, let his soft murmurs calm his tears. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be comforted - maybe he didn’t deserve anything at all, but maybe that didn’t need to matter right now. Connor was here and he loved Markus so, so much, so maybe everything could be ok. Just for now. Maybe one day even Markus could be ok.

 

Because if someone like Connor could see the world in him, then maybe he wasn’t so bad.


End file.
